


For the Honor of Grayskull!

by debwalsh



Series: Bingo-Bingo [15]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Crossdressing, F/M, Gay Steve Rogers, M/M, Marvel Bingo 2019, Meet-Cute, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: In which Bucky believes he’s thoroughly straight unto he finds himself living down the hall from two beautiful people - a tall, imposing blonde woman, and an equally gorgeous blond guy with a build like a Dorito.  Welcome to Bucky Barnes’s Bisexuality crisis circa 2019.This fills the C5 square on Marvel Bingo, Cross Dressing, written for my wonderful Patreon patron, Noukian!





	For the Honor of Grayskull!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Noukian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noukian/gifts).



> So this started out as a prompt Noukian selected from my Happy Steve Bingo card - a lovely challenge that ended a couple of months ago. When I started to write it, I realized it also fit the C5 square on Marvel Bingo, Cross Dressing. 
> 
> In any case, here’s my fill for the “your Halloween costume was delivered to me by mistake” prompt from Happy Steve, combined with cross dressing from Marvel Bingo, throw in a dash of season 2 of She-Ra that just aired on Netflix and I mainlined the whole thing in pretty much one sitting, and you’ve got ... For the Honor of Grayskull!

Bucky had never questioned his sexuality, not even once.  So he sometimes thought Ricky Martin looked kinda hot, or Jason Momoa really rocked those tats, that didn’t make him gay or anything.  He liked the ladies just fine, and they sure as hell liked him. He’d never left a companion unsatisfied or wanting. Never made them feel unwanted or anything less than beautiful, cherished, sexy.  He didn’t do relationships, but he did casual. He remained friendly with most of the women he slept with, unless they made it weird. He was rarely without companionship if he was in the mood.   
  
And he was almost always in the mood.   
  
Yeah, Bucky had a good life - a job he genuinely liked, friends who made his life a good place to be, and no dearth of company.   
  
And now he was settling into a new apartment in a great building, decent rent, a working elevator, really cool architecture, and more room than he’d ever hoped to have and remain in Brooklyn.     
  
Yeah, life didn’t get better than this.   
  
And then he saw the first of the twins, a gorgeous, tall, warrior queen with the most amazing blue eyes he’d ever seen, and found himself thoroughly in lust.     
  
And then all of Bucky’s beloved concepts of himself started to unravel.   
  
Because if the warrior queen was everything he’d ever wanted, every wet dream he’d had since he’d first watched Xena Warrior Princess as a kid, her brother was even more stunning.       
  
And that lust he felt for the sister?  It was nothing compared to what he felt for the brother.   
  
And Bucky was thoroughly confused, besotted, and frustrated.  He wanted them both, and it was driving him crazy.   
  
&&&   
  
Haunting the mailroom did nothing to help his cause.  The box for apartment 114B just said, “Rogers.” No first name, no initials, just the last name.  And Bucky was too new in the building to have any friends, any sources he could pump for information about the residents of 114B.  He didn’t even know the mail carrier for their building so he could oh so nonchalantly ask questions about the residents, or check out the mailing labels on the magazines being delivered.   
  
So he did what any red-blooded stalker would do.   
  
He hung out in the hallway as much as possible, watched entries and exits, and listened carefully for activity in the hallway.  He was tempted to put surveillance devices in the elevator, on the stairways, in the mailroom, and at every doorway.   
  
Yeah, even he had to admit to himself that he’d devolved into creeper status.  After giving in to his baser side for a few days, he smacked himself upside his own head and backed off, threw himself into work, organized a couple of outings with his friends, and found himself a nice succession of willing bedmates.    
  
All it took was a chance encounter on the street for Bucky’s carefully stitched together normality to unravel once again.  He was headed in through the main lobby door when he caught her out of the corner of his eye, his princess, hell, his queen.  Tall, long-legged, broad-shouldered with a tiny waist, and an ass that wouldn’t quit. For a moment, he felt like a teenager, about to go off like a rocket.   
  
Damn.   
  
He met up with Sam at the bar later that evening, after he’d had a chance for a shower and a fast wank.  Somehow, it still wasn’t enough, and he was still thinking about her - and him - by the time he reached the bar.   
  
Sam took a long pull off his beer bottle and stared at him critically for a moment.  Then he shook his hands. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man? I’ve never seen you like this.   Not even after you broke up with Ororo.”   
  
Ororo had been one of Bucky’s few relationships, his first real girlfriend in college.  She was gorgeous, brilliant, and the embodiment of Bucky’s fascination with powerful women.  Their breakup had been a mutual decision, the result of their choices for graduate schools, each in a different part of the world.  He’d known they wouldn’t last, but it had hurt nonetheless.    
  
If he was honest with himself - and he tried to do that at least twice a day - he’d sworn off relationships when his affair with Ororo had ended.  No one measured up to the impossible standard she set, and so he never let himself be disappointed.   
  
But now ...   
  
“You’ve met someone,” Sam said then, his voice full of wonder.  He’d been with Bucky in the years before Ororo, and since. He knew what Bucky was like, knew his hesitance, knew how he chose to live.   
  
“I’ve seen someone.  Haven’t met them. Can’t seem to engineer a meet, no matter how hard I try.”   
  
“Someone at work?”   
  
“Someone in my building.  Someones.”   
  
“You sly dog.”   
  
“It’s just that ... well.”  Bucky was at a loss for words.  Because saying it out loud would make it true.  Would make him something other than what he’d always believed himself to be.   
  
“What?”   
  
“They’re twins.”   
  
“Oh, this is getting better by the minute.  Twins, huh? Jesus, Barnes. I should be so burdened.”   
  
“Fraternal twins.”   
  
“Yeah, so that way you can tell ‘em apart.”   
  
“A girl. And a boy.”   
  
“Oh.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“So you’re bisexual.  Well, that’s cool,” Sam declared, and signaled for another round.   
  
&&&   
  
After admitting to Sam that he was attracted to a man, Bucky had no choice but to face up to it.  It was unfamiliar territory, a world beyond what he knew and understood.    
  
But the Internet.  So useful.   
  
He read up about bisexuality, he looked at gay porn, he checked out news articles about gay rights, the fight for marriage equality, conservative backlash, and more.   
  
He’d made a decision about himself.  He wasn’t going to deny the attraction, even if he never met the object of it again.  He even downloaded Grindr to his phone, and entertained himself a few hours a week swiping through profiles.  He wasn’t quite ready to commit to seeing anyone yet, but he’d confirmed for himself that now that he’d allowed himself to look, he liked what he saw.   
  
And he hadn’t lost interest in women either.   
  
So maybe being bisexual wasn’t going to change much.  It opened up his dating pool, that was true. But he didn’t feel any less himself in the process.     
  
So.  Okay.   
  
Bucky Barnes was bisexual.  He could work with that.   
  
&&&   
  
The weeks followed with tantalizing glances, near misses, weird senses that one of them was nearby.  A whiff of perfume lingering in the hall when he got home from work. A spicy tendril of aftershave that seemed to pass by, only to dissipate as soon as he opened his door.   
  
Even the women he went out with noticed his distraction, which spurred him on to be that much more focused and attentive in his lovemaking.     
  
But he was distracted.  Starting to feel a little like he was unraveling.   
  
Rescue came in the unlikely shape of a crazy-ass delivery guy who looked like he’d been put through a meat grinder - twice. He knocked on Bucky’s door, announced he had a delivery that Bucky had to sign for immediately, and then scurried away before Bucky even realized the package wasn’t even addressed to him.   
  
“Hey, wait, this isn’t mine!”   
  
“No takesbacks!  You figure it out!” the dude had called as he jumped up on the bannister and tried to ride it down to the next floor.  It didn’t work out so well for him, but Bucky wasn’t about to chase the idiot.   
  
Especially not when he read the delivery address.   
  
“S. Rogers.”  Apartment 114B.   
  
Well, then.  When the universe gives you the break you’ve been waiting for, you’d be an idiot to pass it up.   
  
And Bucky Barnes was many things.  No one had ever called him an idiot.   
  
&&&   
  
He carried the parcel - surprisingly large, to be honest, and weirdly balanced - down the hall to 114B, but hesitated.  Well, pretty much just stared at the door willing it to open. It ignored him.   
  
Then he started pacing back and forth.  What if neither of them were there?    
  
Jesus, what if one of them was?   
  
Oh God, what if they both were?   
  
How the hell do you invite a brother and sister into a threesome? Wasn’t that against the law or something?   
  
Geeze, when had Bucky become such a deviant?   
  
But he wasn’t about to leave the package just sitting in the hallway, and he couldn’t spend the rest of his life dithering there, either.   
  
Then he heard the voice coming from inside the apartment   
  
Deep.  Masculine.  Pissed off.   
  
“I don’t care what your courier claims.  I did not sign for the package, and it’s not here.  It’s not fucking here, and I paid a goddamned fortune to have it delivered by tonight.  I need it for a show. This is my career we’re talking about. Yes, it’s insured, but that doesn’t get me what I need to have right this minute.  Find it. Find it, or you’ll be talking to my lawyer. Find it tonight, and have it delivered to me by eight o’clock. Yeah, I really don’t think you wanna know what’s gonna happen if I don’t have it by eight.  Yeah? Well, I don’t care. It’s your job to make sure the package gets delivered safely to the correct address. So do your fucking job, Wade.”   
  
Oh.   
  
Oh wow.   
  
That voice ... well, it was certainly doing things to Bucky.  And that command. He didn’t know he had a competency kink until he heard it in that voice.   
  
Shit.   
  
He had the package in his arms.  If he knocked on the door, would he be seen as a thief?  Or an angel?   
  
The guy had sounded genuinely upset, genuinely angry.     
  
He really didn’t have a choice.   
  
He knocked.   
  
&&&   
  
Six foot two, easy.  Shoulders wide enough to carry the world.  A waist that was surprisingly tiny. Legs that went on for miles.     
  
Blue eyes he could fall into and never worrying about coming up for air.   
  
Lips that were moving.  Forming words. Words that Bucky was supposed to be responding to.  Instead of drooling. Like, seriously, there was saliva involved.   
  
Finally words penetrated the fog, and Bucky heard, “Are you okay?”   
  
“I’m sorry, I just ... um, this was delivered to my apartment by mistake,” he answered, clumsily shoving the parcel toward the god who looked at him with a worried frown.   
  
“Oh.  Oh! Oh my God, you just saved my life!  Come in, I’m sorry, I have crap manners, my Ma raised me better than this.  Come in, let me get you a drink, something, here, give me that, have a seat.  What would you like?”   
  
Bucky wanted to say, “You,” but instead he answered, “Whatever you’re having is fine.”  He was very proud of the adulting response he provided, and apparently tall, blond, and blue-eyed liked it as well, because he gave Bucky a wide, bright smile that made his knees dissolve into pockets of KY, making it really difficult to move with any kind of ... well, efficiency, functionality, and sure as hell no game.   
  
“I’m Steve, by the way.  I know we’ve passed in the hall and stuff, but I’m always running late, so I never seem to have the chance to get to know any of my neighbors.  Hey, the guy who delivered the package - he didn’t look like someone had used his face as a pin cushion or anything, did he?”   
  
“Yeah, really scarred.  Talked fast, made no sense -“   
  
“That fucker.  That’s Wade. The guy I was on the phone with before you knocked.  He claimed he had no idea where my stuff was. I gotta find a new delivery service.”  Steve came back out of the kitchen and handed Bucky a bottle of beer, a craft label he’d even been meaning to try.  “So, you are ...?”   
  
“Oh.  Bucky.  Well, technically James Barnes, but all my friends call me Bucky.  107A.”   
  
Steve tapped the neck of his bottle against Bucky’s and smiled.  “Nice to meet you, 107A.” Then his attention shifted to the clock on the wall and he swore.  “I gotta get ready. Hey, look, you’re welcome to stay while I get ready, and maybe I can walk you out after?” he asked, with an obvious note of hope in his voice.   
  
“Yeah, sure, I’ll, uh, I’ll just sit here and finish my beer.  I got time.”   
  
“Great.  Yeah.” Steve gathered up the box and smiled one more time before running into what looked to be the only bedroom in the apartment.  The layout was the same as Bucky’s, only a mirror image since they were on opposite sides of the hall.    
  
While Steve was in the other room, he chattered away, and Bucky had to smile at how easy he was to talk to.  Questions about the building, how long had Bucky lived there, what did he do for a living. Bucky barely had a chance to answer before there was another question, but finally there was enough of a lull that he got in the question he wanted to know the answer for.  “So, um, where is your sister?” Bucky asked as Steve did whatever he was doing in there.   
  
“Sister?” Steve repeated, confused.  “I’m an only child. Always wanted a sister, but my Dad died when I was little, and Ma never wanted to remarry, so it’s just me.”   
  
“Seriously?  I saw a woman who looks just like you in this very hallway.  In the lobby, too. Tall, gorgeous, just incredible -“   
  
And then Steve came back out into the living room, and Bucky felt his brain short circuit.  There must be gray matter dribbling out his ears, because what he was seeing couldn’t possible be real.   
  
Standing in front of him was the woman who’d first captured his heart.  Tall, regal, clad in a white outfit with little hot pants, a short split skirt, gold epaulets, a crown-like headpiece, and ...   
  
When she lifted the sword over her head and cried, “For the honor of Grayskull!” he finally realized what he was looking at.   
  
It wasn’t Halloween, so it wasn’t likely a costume party.   
  
And that wasn’t Steve’s sister.  It was Steve. Looking like everything Bucky had ever wanted, times two.   
  
“You’re a ... you, um -“   
  
Steve brought the sword down so he held it point down by his side.  “I’m a drag artist, yes. There is no sister. Just me. Glad to hear I’m so convincing.  But what do you think? I’m introducing a new line of characters - anime girls. Thought I’d start with She-Ra.  Not exactly anime, but recognizable. And tall. Like the tallest. So belief doesn’t have to suspend as much as some characters.  I mean, really - don’t think I can pull off the Powerpuff Girls without people doing serious mental gymnastics, right?”   
  
Bucky was still just staring, his poor brain trying to put itself back together again now that he had some idea of what Steve was and why he’d seen two beautiful people who looked so much alike - but never together.   
  
“Um, say something?” Steve asked plaintively.   
  
“You’re a drag artist,” Bucky said dumbly.   
  
“Yep.  My stage name is Artistic License.  I specialize mostly in characters from famous works of art, but now I’m branching into anime and animation.  There are only so many times I can do Toulouse Loutrec and Monet. I need some variety, and frankly, there’s a lot of girl power to be found in anime.  I’ve got my eye on some characters in comics, too.”   
  
“And you do this for a living ...?”   
  
“I’m a graphic artist by day, drag diva by night.  I love both my jobs. How many people do you know who can say that, huh?”  He pushed back an errant curl from the long blonde wig, and peered more closely at Bucky.  “Are you okay?”   
  
“I thought I was straight.”   
  
“What?”   
  
“I thought I was straight.  Until I saw you. I finally realized I’m bi.  I don’t know if you’d be interested -“   
  
“Okay, I have to make a confession.  Wade didn’t deliver my package to the wrong address.  I asked him to. I mean, I’m gay. I know I’m gay. And ever since I first saw you - I was in drag, and I saw how you reacted to me - I’ve been wanting to meet you, but I was afraid that you would be weirded out, or worse, like aggressively straight.  So I paid Wade to deliver my costume to you so you’d have to come knocking at my door, just so I could actually say hello and now you’re telling me that I inspired some kind of sexual awakening -“   
  
“Bisexual awakening.  And yeah. I’ve been crushing on you, too - both of you you. Wait, is that weird?”   
  
“I think we may both be weird.  But maybe ... we could be weird together?  I have a show in half an hour at the Rialto Club.  Maybe you could ... come with? See my show? And then maybe ... dinner?”   
  
“Wait, so were you really yelling at your friend on the phone?”   
  
Steve blushed at that.  “No. I was basically talking to myself.  I’d been watching you through the keyhole wearing a hole in the carpet, and I thought maybe if you thought the delivery person was in trouble, you might get enough nerve to knock.  I was right, wasn’t it?”   
  
“It’s almost like you know me.  All right, Steve. Ms. License. Let me go get cleaned up and I’ll go with you.  You going like that?”   
  
“Oh, no, I’ll change back into a real boy - I go through multiple costume changes at the club.  This’ll just be one of them. And you mean it, you’ll go with me?”   
  
“Steve, I got a feeling we were destined to meet.  And I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks. I think this may be the start of something ... well, weird, yeah.  But maybe something great, too.”   
  
“Okay.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“See you back here in twenty?”   
  
“Let’s make it ten.”   
  
“It’s a date, then.”   
  
“It’s a date.”   
  
END

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I think a sequel is probably called for, too ... And I’m working on art, too ...
> 
> Hey, let me know what you think!


End file.
